Chuld Name. - Book Of Paradise. The Privileged Men Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B C DC D E FE F G HG H I JI J K LK L M NO N P QP Q R DR D S TS T U VU WAFTER THE BATTLE OF BADE BENEATH THE CANOPY OF HEAVEN | A |
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MAHOMET Speaks | B |
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Let the foeman sorrow o'er his dead | C |
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Ne'er will they return again to light | D |
O'er our brethren let no tear be shed | C |
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For they dwell above yon spheres so bright | D |
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All the seven planets open throw | E |
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All their metal doors with mighty shock | F |
And the forms of those we loved below | E |
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At the gates of Eden boldly knock | F |
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There they find with bliss ne'er dream'd before | G |
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Glories that my flight first show'd to eye | H |
When the wondrous steed my person bore | G |
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In one second through the realms on high | H |
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Wisdom's trees in cypress order growing | I |
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High uphold the golden apples sweet | J |
Trees of life their spreading shadows throwing | I |
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Shade each blossoming plant each flow'ry seat | J |
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Now a balmy zephyr from the East | K |
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Brings the heavenly maidens to thy view | L |
With the eye thou now dost taste the feast | K |
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Soon the sight pervades thee through and through | L |
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There they stand to ask thee thy career | M |
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Mighty plans or dangerous bloody rout | N |
Thou'rt a hero know they for Thourt here | O |
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What a hero This they'll fathom out | N |
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By thy wounds soon clearly this is shown | P |
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Wounds that write thy fame's undying story | Q |
Wounds the true believer mark alone | P |
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When have perish'd joy and earthly glory | Q |
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To chiosks and arbors thou art brought | R |
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Fill'd with checkered marble columns bright | D |
To the noble grape juice solace fraught | R |
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They the guest with kindly sips invite | D |
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Youth Thou'rt welcome more than e'er was youth | S |
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All alike are radiant and serene | T |
When thou tak'st one to thine heart with truth | S |
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Of thy band she'll be the friend and queen | T |
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So prepare thee for this place of rest | U |
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Never can it now be changed again | V |
Maids like these will ever make thee blest | U |
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Wines like these will never harm thy brain | W |
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
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